


Safe (The Slim Jim Remix)

by heyjupiter



Category: Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:27:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4237263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan knew he came to New Orleans looking for something, but he wasn't sure what until he almost tripped over the kid on a street corner. He took Remy back to his motel room and hoped that they could help each other out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe (The Slim Jim Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Safe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/173224) by [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva). 
  * In response to a prompt by [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva) in the [remixmadness2015](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2015) collection. 



> This remix is set after the events of Origins: Wolverine.

Logan walked up and down the streets of New Orleans, feeling increasingly frustrated. He knew he was looking for something but he wasn't sure what. Ever since he'd left the Island he couldn't remember anything solid, only occasional, infuriating fragments. He wasn't even sure his name was Logan; he had only the metal tags around to go by. Still: he knew he was looking for something, and he thought it was in New Orleans.

Then the wind shifted, and he caught a sharp scent. Something inside of Logan recognized the scent, and followed it. It led him to a young man who was sitting on a street corner with a bottle of cheap whisky and a lost look in his black-on-red eyes, and Logan knew-- _this_ was what he'd been looking for.

The kid raised his eyebrows when he saw Logan approach. "I knew New Orleans was haunted, but you're not the ghost I thought I'd see," he mused. His voice was slurred from accent and drink both, Logan observed.

"What do you mean?" Logan asked.

"You made me go back to the Island," the kid said. "You made me go back, and you took a bullet to the head, and then you left. How does a man come back from that?"

Logan didn't know what to say. The kid shrugged and said, "Well, now that you're back, what do you want?" He tipped his head back, exposing his long, lean throat. "You here to kill me? To tell you the truth, I ain't sure I'd even mind…" He laughed, and then his eyes drifted shut.

Logan licked his lips. He still wasn't sure who he'd found, but he knew he was in the right place. He bent down and scooped the kid up. He'd apparently passed out. He seemed to weigh nothing in Logan's arms. Logan paused, then bent back down for the kid's booze. Then he carried him the few blocks back to the cheap motel room where Logan had been staying. It wasn't the kind of place where people asked questions. But even so, Logan avoided passing anyone in the hallway. 

In his room, he looked away as he stripped off the kid's clothing, which smelled like sweat and liquor and vomit and garbage. It was too much for Logan's sensitive nose in small quarters. He deposited the kid into his bed under the sheets and threw the clothes out in the hallway trash. Then he decided to take a quick shower. The kid seemed pretty out of it, and Logan wanted to get rid of some of the day's smell.

He hadn't been in the shower long when he heard movement in the room. He wrapped a towel around himself and hurried back out. The kid was awake, wrapped in a sheet, and slipping toward the door.

"No, wait," Logan said. "Please."

The kid froze and looked at him for a moment, then broke for the door. But the sheet slowed him down, and Logan had come too far and spent too long searching to let him get away without answers. He crossed the room in a few strides and wrapped the kid in his arms. The kid went limp, and Logan could smell his fear.

"Please," the kid said.

"Look… I'm sorry. I ain't gonna hurt you, kid. I just--I just thought you could help me."

The kid sighed. "Okay," he said in a small voice. He reached his hand down and grabbed Logan's cock under the towel. Logan dropped the kid on the bed and stepped away.

"No! That's not what I meant!"

"You sure? That's all Remy's good for," the kid said, sounding dejected.

"No, I--god, how old are you?"

"I'm 18," the kid--Remy, his name must be--said, batting his eyelashes. Logan wasn't sure whether to believe him--the kid's thin frame looked younger than 18, but his eyes looked much older.

"Look, I just--I threw away your clothes because they stunk," Logan said. "Hang on." He rummaged through his duffel bag. He didn't have much, but he'd accumulated a few changes of clothes on the road. He pulled out a flannel shirt and a pair of boxers and handed them to Remy. "Here, put these on," he said.

Remy shrugged and obeyed. "Whatever you like."

"I just wanted to talk to you. You passed out on a street corner. So I brought you here."

"Okay, we can talk," Remy agreed. Logan realized he was still in a towel and he quickly dressed himself while Remy gazed at him coolly. "What you want to talk about? And what are we going to drink while we talk about it?"

"I think you've had enough," Logan said.

Remy pouted. Logan said, "I don't--I don't know what happened to you. Or to me? I can't remember anything from before that day, when you and I were on that Island."

"Hmm," Remy said. 

"Do you remember?" Logan asked.

"Oh, oui. Remy can't forget," the kid said bitterly. 

"Okay! Okay, so--can you tell me what happened?"

"What happened was--I'd finally gotten away from there after two _years_ in that hellhole, and you showed up and made me go back there."

"Oh. Uh, sorry?" Logan said. "Uh… did I say why?"

"Yes, yes, you wanted revenge on Stryker. And I did too."

"Who's Stryker?"

"He is the worst man," Remy declared with a shudder. "Can we not discuss something more pleasant?"

"No," Logan growled. Remy cringed away from Logan, and Logan immediately regretted scaring him. "Sorry, kid, I swear I won't hurt you… I just need to _know_."

"Perhaps there are some things you are better off not knowing," Remy said. He'd found his bottle of whisky in the nightstand and was drinking it. "I would give anything to be able to forget."

"Trust me, you wouldn't," Logan said.

Remy snorted. "It seems we each have what the other wants. What a pity."

"Do you remember anything else about me? My name? Where I came from? Why I wanted revenge?"

"Your name is Logan. You came from Canada. You wanted to kill Stryker because he killed your girlfriend."

"Is Logan my first name or my last name?"

I am sorry, mon ami, but I only knew you for a few days before the Island. And you are not a man who says much. At least, you weren't then--perhaps things have changed?"

Logan sighed. "No, that sounds about right," he said. "Well--look, thanks. And--sorry if I scared you."

Remy shrugged. "It ain't the first time I've woken up in a strange motel room. Probably it will not be the last."

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"I make do," Remy said. 

"That's not really an answer," Logan said.

"You want an answer, then? Okay. Remy was doing fine, before he met you, but now… Remy lost his job after you showed up, making a mess of the casino. Remy can't sleep at night. Remy can't stop remembering things he wanted to forget. Remy can't go home, because now he's too much of a _troublemaker_ ," the kid said. 

Logan let out a long breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I--I didn't know."

Remy finished off the bottle and held it between his hands. It glowed pink, and Logan recognized that as a threat. But he made no move to defend himself, and after a moment, Remy laughed and let the glow disappeared back into his hands. "Wouldn't do any good, would it? If a bullet to the head can't kill you, Remy sure can't."

"Probably not, no," Logan agreed. "You can hit me if it would make you feel better, though."

Remy studied him for a moment, then shook his head. "I do not think it would. What a disappointment."

"I suppose it's an un-fulfilling night for both of us," Logan said.

Remy let out a short, sharp laugh. "Night's still young, mon ami. We could still have some fun."

Logan said, "You're drunk, kid. You need some sleep and some food."

"Perhaps," Remy said. He sounded unconcerned. 

"Wait here," Logan said. He went down the hall to the vending machine, half expecting the kid to bolt. But he was still there when Logan came back with an armload of Cheetos and Slim Jims. Remy had turned on the TV, but he was staring into space.

"Here," Logan said. "Eat something." He wasn't quite sure why he felt so protective, other than the fact that the kid so obviously needed protecting.

Remy wrinkled his nose but opened a bag of Cheetos, eating them casually, as if Logan couldn't see his ribs under his half-buttoned flannel shirt. Logan made him drink water and eat a Slim Jim. Then the kid yawned.

"You want some sleep, kid?" Logan asked.

Remy shrugged, and Logan said, "Okay." He turned off the TV and the lights and curled up on the floor next to the bed.

Remy said, his voice sleepy and amused, "Bed's big enough for two."

"You sure?" Logan asked.

"Remy doesn't take up much room. And besides, he gets awful cold at night."

He truly didn't mind sleeping on the floor--comfort was not something he prioritized highly. But he climbed in bed next to Remy anyway. The kid fell asleep almost instantly, and curled tightly around Logan in his sleep. Logan hesitantly put his arm around him. It had been a long day for them both, but he hoped the next day would be brighter for both of them.


End file.
